The thought of his name alone makes my chest constrict until breathing becomes a conscious effort. I've tried calling him. Texting him. Begging the universe to make my phone light up with his name. Nothing but silence.

I force myself to stay calm, to keep my voice steady as I turn to Camilla. "Have you or Jay heard from Nate?"

She hesitates, choosing her words with surgical precision. "Jay mentioned he was going away for a while."

The words hit like shattered glass.

"He's going away?" My voice splinters. "What do you mean? Where's he going?"

Panic flashes across Camilla's face as she stumbles over her words. "I—I don't know. Jay's been really hush-hush about it. He just said Nate needed to get out of town for a while."

The ground shifts beneath me, my legs threatening to give out. The truth crashes over me like a wave of ice water. Nate is gone. He left without a word. Without answering my calls. Without giving me a reason why.

I feel their eyes on me—Jake, Camilla, Marcus, all of them—watching, waiting for me to say something, but I can't find words in the wreckage of my heart. My chest feels hollow, like someone has carved out everything inside me and left nothing but echoes.

He left. He left me.

And somehow, that hurts worse than any of my injuries.

The dim light in my room does little to soften the storm of emotions swirling around me. I sit cross-legged on my bed, fingers absently stroking Bones' worn fur. Each breath feels like learning how to exist in a world that's shifted three degrees sideways. A soft knock breaks through my thoughts. Lydia appears in the doorway, her presence gentle but steady.

"Hey, sweetie," she says softly. "Are you doing okay?"

We both know I'm not, but I manage a small nod. She steps inside, holding a white envelope.

"This came for you last week. I was waiting for the right time."

Curiosity flickers through the fog in my mind. The bold, official-looking logo catches my eye as I take it from her. My heart stumbles over its own rhythm as I pull out the crisp letter.

The words blur as I read and re-read them.

Congratulations! You have been accepted.

It's an acceptance into the writing scholarship program I hadn't applied for.

"I don't understand," I whisper, my voice trembling like autumn leaves. "How did they⁠⁠—"

"He submitted it for you before he left. Made the deadline by a day before applications closed." Lydia's voice is gentle but weighted with understanding.

"Nate did this?"

Lydia nods, her smile bittersweet.

It shouldn't surprise me—even drowning in his own darkness, he's always been my biggest champion, seeing potential in me when I couldn't see it myself. That thought breaks something loose inside my chest, sending fresh pain cascading through me.